


in times of calamity

by ascendingfromatoms



Series: breath of the volleyball [1]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: M/M, breath of the wild AU, travelers on a lonely road
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-03
Updated: 2020-08-03
Packaged: 2021-03-06 00:00:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,420
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25693942
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ascendingfromatoms/pseuds/ascendingfromatoms
Summary: Bokuto takes it upon himself to stop people from throwing themselves off the Proxim bridge.
Relationships: Akaashi Keiji & Bokuto Koutarou, Akaashi Keiji/Bokuto Koutarou, Bokuto Koutarou & Kozume Kenma
Series: breath of the volleyball [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1863265
Comments: 6
Kudos: 15





	in times of calamity

Any traveler who found themselves at the Great Plateau was only there to pass it by. The land had long since been overrun by treacherous creatures of the Calamity, who nested themselves in the dusted nooks of the Forgotten Temple, and violently lashed out at anything that came too close. People walked with heads bent and hoods drawn tight, as to bring little attention to their presence. Their weapons, at the ready, were handled in a steady grip, lest an ambush occur.

_ Bo—it’s gonna be a long way from Necluda _ , his friend had warned him with a furrow in his brow. There was nothing left for Bokuto in the small village from which he was raised. In his youth, there was often the prickling sensation that he was meant to be somewhere else, running along riversides and eating berries straight from the bushes. He had visions of a field teeming with wildflowers, and knew he had to go. Simply put, a journey across the lands was destined to be once he became of age. People scarcely left the place where he was born, and intended to stay for the entirety of their lives; but a seemingly mystical call to the wild could not be ignored, given that it was Hylia’s blessing.

And so, he packed a lofty duffle and shouldered it on his back all the way to the Riverside Stable. It was a cold night, in an unfamiliar bed, but he willed his body to rise with the sun in the whispers of morning and continued his meaningful trek across the banks of the twisting river. Other travelers with their own packs waved at him from a distance, some stopping to converse. He asked them how it was like where they came from, they humored him with meat skewers.

Most came from the opposite direction, and few were following in his path. The serenity of the stables soon faded into silence, as he passed through the jagged crags of the Dueling Peaks, a newfound unease settling into his bones. The journey, thus far, had been in comfortable territory, and the people at the stable were friendly and willing enough to answer his burning questions. As he approached the land beyond the rocks, it seemed as though the people had changed too: quieter and in somewhat of a hurry.

Following the beaten path got him out of most mishaps, but Bokuto knew there was more to this land than the dangers that beheld it. There were many hidden treasures unknown to man, tucked away in the woods beyond Hylia River, and colorful foliage rooted in the soil with bending stems. In the rush of his excitement, the wilderness gave him peace of mind. The whistles of the breeze brought him soft music which accompanied him on his travels like an old friend that he had only come to know. With only the trees as witness, he warbled an off-pitch rendition of a song he was beginning to forget the words to.

The day whittled on by, and Bokuto set up his tent by a fortified bridge that was well-worn for use. He sparked a fire with his flint and warmed his tender body to the flames. Darkness in the wild was distinctly different from darkness at home, or even in a stable. Every sudden rustle of the wildgrass disquieted his thoughts, and though he longed for sleep, his body wouldn’t allow it. Granted, he tossed in his sheets all night and woke up with an empty stomach.

His eyes wandered over to the bridge, when he saw the figure leaning against the railing, dangerously close to the edge, with a lithe figure, poised like a cat. Bokuto wasn’t able to distinguish if it was a boy or a girl, his body instinctively moving faster than his mind.

He cried out to them, “Don’t do it!”

They froze, fixing their golden eyes onto his rather wide-eyed expression. Golden eyes that saw things beyond his scope of living. This was no mere passerby with intentions of leaving as fast as they came, rather, this was the last place they intended to pass by. Bokuto was bent over and catching his breath from the sudden exertion, and at the same time, scared out of his wits by the events of the morning. 

He found his words and breathlessly explained, “I don’t want you to get hurt, friend.”

“You don’t even know me, what do you care?” the listless voice of the stranger replied, eyes boring into his soul. Still, they gripped the stone of the railing, but their feet were on solid ground. Bokuto reasoned, “I do care. You really got me worried for a second there.”

Quietly, they muttered, “Sorry.”

Bokuto learned two things from the encounter. First, he learned that the stranger was named Kenma, and as empty as they had come, there was a life that begged to be lived deep within them. The two sat for a while, a safe distance away from the edge, planted on the grass with fresh meat skewers, seasoned with the same spice he had obtained from the travelers. Kenma pointed out that he talked with his mouth full, but they weren’t too keen on manners themself.

As Kenma departed on their own path, towards the direction from which Bokuto came, there was no telling what would happen to them. There was always a higher mountain with a summit that marveled the height of a jump from the bridge’s edge, but in the end, the result would be the same. The second realization that Bokuto had was that he would stand as some sort of watchman at the bridge—a guardian angel.

It was the least he could do.

His self-appointed job was an odd one, but it was apparent that it was much needed in these parts. He greeted travelers as they passed, and offered them a meal, and a little conversation. A small part of him is proud when he’s able to get them to shrug off their cloaks and ease their burdens. Many spoke of their hometowns, or whatever was on their mind, but most spoke of the Calamity, as it was the essence that surrounded the lands in a grotesque hold. The Calamity was a very real thing, evident by the shadowy royal castle in the distance, and in hushed words traded from one wanderer to another.

“You’re not planning on venturing into Hyrule Castle, now are you?” he gawked, unable to stop himself from asking when a young man asked for directions to the fortress. After telling him to remove his boot from the edge of the railing (lest he slip and fall), he pointed out the trail that led to the nearest stable, but was still wary of the obvious confidence of the stranger and his fixation with entering the castle, nonetheless, with a weakened leg.

Bokuto narrowed his eyes, “It’s too dangerous there, and I wouldn’t recommend going there, especially with all the monsters roaming around these days.” He didn’t look quite equipped for the situation as it appeared from first glance, with a burlap knapsack and a small-looking dagger sheathed in his boot strap. When Bokuto offered more, he politely turned it down:

“Dontcha worry yerself none, sir,” the boy saluted, laying it thick with a thick countryside accent, “Been there before, nuthin’ like what them old folks tell the kiddos in the village...”

He extended his hand for a good shake and sent the boy off on his travels. Just as fabled by poets of another time described, the expanse of the wild that stood before him seemed untouched, or even hallowed. Scattered across the fields were decayed Guardians, hulking mechanical automations that were turned against the kingdom in the spar between evil consummate. It was impossible to miss one rooted deeply in the ground, or an eight-legged creature reduced to a toppling mess on the mountainscape.  _ They must have been able to climb,  _ gulped Bokuto as he saw this.

He wondered if the guardians were capable of flight, or travel by water. People at the stable warned him of the active Guardians closer to the Castletown Ruins. As long as he stayed far away, it would be rare to encounter one. Death by Guardian was one that someone wished upon themselves.

Along came another traveler on the bridge, contemplating in its quietness. He was no merchant, for he had no bulky pack of goods or donkey companion. And he hadn’t a weapon on his back, so he couldn’t have been a mercenary or scavenger. This one was a thinker. His sleeves were drawn to his elbows, and his hair was left to the jurisdiction of the soft breeze that passed them by. He seemed lost in thought, body submitting to every which way that the wind blew. Bokuto spared a curious glance and called upon the stranger, because there was always a reason for which they came, “What brings you to this bridge?”

He stiffened at the question, but he spoke modestly, “I needed time to myself.”

“The wilderness has an unparalleled way of providing solace,” Bokuto breathed a contented sigh, joining him at the railing. “Indeed.” The stranger said little else, but continued to look out at the rolling fields of grass that seemed to swell like waves with the smallest puff of air. Bokuto realized that the stranger had said that he wanted time to himself, but he didn’t ask him to leave a second time.

“Hey, you wouldn’t mind telling me your name, would you?” Bokuto turned abruptly when things got a little too quiet for his liking.

“Akaashi,” the boy offered. Everything about him was delicate: skin like petals of a fruiting apple blossom, lips pressed together to conceal his smile, and his ruffled hair loosened by the afternoon. All of him was breathtaking, but it was his eyes, churning with the intensity of the river that follows a waterfall, in the end that took his breath away.

Bokuto sputtered out, “Stay for dinner?”

As they both extended fishing rods into the river, Bokuto kept up an amiable conversation with the beautiful stranger. He was patient in small matters, like waiting for his fish to meet the bait before tugging his line back to the surface. Akaashi delicately collected the fish from the hook, and placed it into their woven basket. Bokuto jumped up from his seated position and hooted, “Wow, Akaashi, you’re amazing!”

“You have yet to catch anything,” he replied matter-of-factly, which made Bokuto pout ever-so-slightly. In the end, Akaashi had been responsible for most of the catches that evening, but Bokuto didn’t mind. In fact, he had been a bit distracted, if he was being honest. He made up for it by preparing the fire, and tending to the skewers that were roasting over the fire.

While Akaashi sat politely on the side, the fish was removed from the proximity of the flames and onto a plate that Bokuto retrieved from his bag. He settled down on the ground with crossed legs, unintentionally bumping his knee against Akaashi’s. Embarrassed, he muttered an apology and respectfully slipped into another position to avoid any further contact.

He slipped his plate on top, his stunning gaze catching the fading sun, “Thank you, Bokuto.”

In all of Hyrule, he had never seen such a beautiful sight. Being with Akaashi put all the Goddess-given wonders of the world to shame. Even the most beautiful girl in his village could not measure up to Akaashi. As the sky darkened, and the nightly creatures made their appearance, they remained at the fireside, aimlessly chatting.

“So... Akaashi, where are you heading off to in the morning?”

Deep inside, he was afraid to ask this, knowing that Akaashi was but a traveler, and had to go about his own route. It was known by all journeyers in the Great Plateau that those who arrived were only there to leave in the next instant.

“Somewhere,” he said simply. “You?”

He responded with equal ambiguity.

“I’ll be around.”

The mood shifted slightly with the realization that this was their last night together. Bokuto laid back on his hands, watching the sky. If he only turned his head slightly, he could see that Akaashi was doing the same, with the same faraway look as before.

He shifted to face him and murmured softly, “What’re you thinking, Akaashi?”

Startled by his unfiltered curiosity, Akaashi focused on his fingers, “Nothing much.”

They sat together, yet alone with their thoughts in silence. Strangely, Bokuto felt at peace, and the night didn’t seem to scare him all that much with Akaashi by his side.

Bokuto sat up with a start, “You know what? I think it’s the people that make life worth living. Back in the village, everyone was a farmer, and that wasn’t something that I wanted to spend the rest of my life doing. Rising early at dawn, and watching the plants turn brown to green to brown. That’s why I left, to carve out a path for myself out here in the Plateau. I think I’ve always known that I could make a living by making others happy.”

His eyes drifted to his companion, who was still gazing skyward bound. He paused expectantly, “Are you happy, Akaashi?”

It took a moment for him to say something.

Akaashi sighed deeply, “That isn’t the easiest thing for me to admit.” An apology on the tip of his tongue, he nearly apologized and dropped the subject, but Akaashi began to tell his story.

He listened to the tale of a boy who had lost everything due to tragic fire.  _ There was a guardian invasion during the Great Earthquake, _ told Akaashi as their cooking fire disintegrated into smithereens.  _ Our hometown was notably close to the Akkala Citadel when the soldiers had their last stand.  _ As far as he knew, nothing survived after the Citadel was reduced to ruins. The land was surrounded in deep malice, and the land was dominated by Guardian Stalkers.

Everybody had something that they lost during the Calamity. People had lived in fear and disarray. There were people without homes to return to. There were entire bloodlines wiped out by the attacks. And now, only evil remained at the seat of their kingdom. Bokuto quietly moved his hand until it aligned nicely against his Akaashi’s fingers.

He gave it a firm squeeze, “You deserve the world. I hope that you will find your happiness.”

Akaashi smiled, “I already have.”

  
  



End file.
